Where'd You Go Craig?
by remonrime
Summary: Craig was an amazing person. He was my best friend and we did everything together. Of course, I say all these things as I sit here all alone in the corner of the cafeteria, coffee staining through the crotch of my pants and being laughed at by HIM. CREEK.


_**This is a new idea that sparked my interest and I wanted to write it out. Hopefully you like it. Tell me if you do, yeah?**_

_**Here it goes. Please read, enjoy, and review if you have the time.**_

**Where'd You Go Craig?**

Craig was an amazing person.

He really, truly was. I could think up of so many scenarios right now and they'd all be about him and his awesomeness. I wasn't some sort of crazed fan or over obsessed stalker, no-- I was his best friend. Seriously, if people really knew what Craig was really like, they'd be all up on him, but I'm glad that no one does. That means I can keep him all to myself without having to worry if someone else would take my place. As long as he's by my side as my best friend, I have no reason to fret.

I remember one time when we went on a field trip to the most horrible place on earth (Denver), he was beside me every step of the way, trying to keep me on check and smooth my nerves over whenever I got too spazzy for his liking. Who wouldn't? I mean, we were in freaking Denver for Christ's sake, that was enough to get me riled for the entire trip.

It sucked dreadfully, that field trip, partly because everyone was getting mad at me and telling me that I ruined their entire trip because of the frequent stops we had to make to quell my spasms, but I guess it was worth it, because our friendship strengthened to another degree or something like that. If Craig ever heard me saying stuff like this, he'd probably flick the bird at me and call me some kind of pussy faggot, because he was like that.

Him and that Peruvian hat of his, which he still hadn't gotten rid of since that random trip to Peru he went on back in fourth grade.

Did I mention that Craig was amazing? I guess you could call him my Super Best Friend, like Kyle and Stan. He was a good guy and such a cool person-- he rarely got ticked off. Actually, for the most part he was always ticked off, but no one would ever notice because he would only stare at you with a callow glare and he wouldn't say anything until you either prompted him to flick you off or did something to annoy him. Yep, Craig sure was amazing.

But that was three months ago.

And now…

Well, I'm eating at my usual lonely spot back in the far corner of the cafeteria, a sketchy heap of cafeteria food sloshing over my food tray and bubbling with some kind of morbid attempt to get me to eat it. Like fuck I would.

And what was I doing alone?

Why you ask? Where had my amazing, awesome friend wandered off too? I smacked the palm of my hand against my lap, my fingers curling around the fabric of my ripped jeans. I could feel my finger nails digging past the material of my jeans to my skin, but I didn't care. I was too busy staring at him.

Him.

He was the cause of all this. He was the one who left me vulnerable, who cast me off like some old trinket that he found no interest in any longer. Anyone in my position would hold a grudge or some kind of vow to get back at that person, to torment them or spring some kind of vengeance to appease their suffering, but not I.

Poor Tweekers wasn't like that, I would never be like that-- at least not to him. I cared for him far too much to ever bring harm to him, because I wouldn't be able to go through with it myself, let alone stand it. Craig was an amazing friend. At least, he used to be.

I bit at my lip, my spasms starting to take their toll and rumble out of me like wave-powered vibrations. Whenever I got panicky or somber, my spaz attacks always seemed to get even worse. It was because of him, I was sure of it. It was always because of Craig; he was always the one that got me to calm down, because he was always by my side to pat me on the back or ruffle my hair or do some kind of random thing that would simmer me over. But he didn't do that anymore, so they got worse-- the spaz attacks I mean.

If anyone where to notice me right now, because truthfully they never did, they would probably think I was some sort of creeper who constantly stared off into space at nothing in particular. They didn't know or care to figure out what I was really observing.

He was currently sliding off his Peruvian hat from his head, shuffling his fingers through his jagged black hair as he mussed it up and swept the fringe from his eyes. He was laughing at some joke, his shoulders hunching together and his smile widening in a perfect upside down arc as his eyes seemed to sparkle with gaiety.

And they were all laughing with him.

Clyde, Token, Bebe, Stan, Wendy…all the popular kids. He was cavorting with all of them, even going as far as laughing at their jokes, but he seemed to enjoy it. He looked as if he enjoyed every single minute of it, because truthfully, I think he did. He probably felt so free to be able to hang out with people like that without having me there to ruin his image. God only knows that I would have embarrassed him anyway.

"Nn," I whimper, another spasm rocking through my body. My fingers were jittering and dancing about my lap, unable to keep still as another attack seemed to pounce from out of nowhere. "ARGH!"

That did it.

I had officially managed to get the entire student body's eyes lanchored on me. Some of them were giving me the evil eye, and some where merely shaking their heads and rolling their eyes, as if I were some unimportant insect that need not the spare of attention.

Good, because my self esteem was already as low as it was.

I quickly tried to calm myself, ghosting my hand over the table in a desperate attempt to try to locate my coffee mug. It only made it harder for me because my eyes were anchored elsewhere.

A spark, an electrical jolt or whatever the hell people called it, raced across the room and suddenly connected our eyes together, as if they were magnetically attracted to each other. I don't know what caused me to look over there, the same went with him as well, but now there was no turning back because we were both staring at each other.

My arm was still halfway across the table, my fingers jittering and wriggling out in the open air, still trying to grasp for my misplaced coffee mug. I probably looked pathetic right about now, but none of that seemed to matter anymore. It was as if my mind were somewhere else; what if I had misplaced my brain instead of my coffee? Either that or I had some sort of long awaited brain fart, but I usually only got those when it came down to making decisions for myself.

And then something happened. I didn't know how or when it happened, but suddenly all of the people seated around Craig at the popular table were now staring at me and laughing maniacally, their eyes slanted in mirth and their cheeks tinting a shade of red only known when someone was literally laughing so hard that they couldn't breath.

I wonder, what were they laughing about?

And then I looked a little harder and I noticed something.

Some of them had their index fingers pointed at my direction, their other hands covering their mouths in hopes to stifle their rolling giggles.

And then I looked at Craig, who was also laughing along with them, his smile as wide as a jack -o- lanterns gritty grin.

It didn't help to know that he was also pointing straight at me, his laughter suddenly overwhelming him as he continued to chuckle along with his friends.

Something wet and warm pooled itself into the lower regions of my lap, a hot liquid staining past my jeans and soaking through my boxers. I looked down in mortification as I found that I had accidentally spilled the contents of my coffee onto my lap, a blotchy, ugly stain spreading over the crotch of my pants like a Sharpie marker.

I cricked my head and let out a tiny gasp.

So that's why they were laughing.

_**A/N: So, any feedback? Should I continue or not? Please leave a review if you can! I'm a Creek faggot. **_


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